Untitled 'Lord of the Rings' project
by aletheswan
Summary: Exploring the repercussions the return of evil has brought to Middle Earth and how it affects the lives of those who have been around to witness it, and also of those who haven't. Plunging head-first into a world they know nothing about, the new inhabitants will be forced to face what they never knew existed: a different version of themselves. Rating may change. OCs introduced.


Disclaimer: I do not own the work this fanfiction pertains to, a.k.a. „Lord of the Rings".

Mention: I opted for not using Sindarin, or even trying to use it, given the pretty huge hole in vocabulary. I'm sorry if it takes away from the quality of the story, but I'm not going to use partial or faulty vocabulary. If, however, I get requests for introducing it, then I will try my best to do , the places or institutions mentioned that you may recognize are purely reconstructed from imagination. It's not an accurate or real-life description.

* * *

Believe it or not, I have not yet been committed to an asylum for the mentally unstable, however likely it seems that I'd have little trouble adapting to the atmosphere of such a place. In retrospect, I might ever find friendship within fellow inmates, given that our minds should be similar in thought process. Who else blacks out and wakes up in the strangest of places, like, say, the backyard that held their house, laying, quite comfortably, on a sturdy branch of one of the oak trees that gathered in a dense line that marked the edge of a forest?Lovely as that sounds, it's neither the worst nor the lightest-natured of events that led me to believe there was something simply out of place about me.

The reality of it is probably the worst. What I mean is how I can see and feel all the differences between myself and others. It used to be about my classmates in school when I was younger, now, I notice it in everyone. The discomfort of realization wasn't that bad, at least not at you feel the distance that an outer force seems to have placed between you and the people around you, when it becomes unbearably clear it's not a phase, you are struck with what many call an „epiphany".The revelation of your own isolation. Which, at age 12, is ridiculous. Also, it's completely unexplainable. Not only did I not possess the words with which clarification on my feelings would have been made possible, but I also lacked in people to direct said theoretical words mother had always shown great dislike for anything that resided on the fantastic side of imagination-she always insisted upon the normalcy of things. Even at 12 years of age, I knew that was not the way to were scarce, but, I know, even in abundance it would have served no purpose. The mental capacity for comprehension on the brink of puberty is not exactly favorable to the discussion of an existential crisis.

So, I was left with one choice: focusing on something tries had came and gone before I found what really took me away to my own peace of mind, and, with the passing of the years, I was fortunate to find other pursuits that helped lessen the weight of the shadow that loomed.

* * *

Earth, Bellevue, Washington D.C.

June 4th, 2008

„Lilith, please hurry. We don't want to be late for your sister's graduation."

At her words, young Lilith could not hold back a huff. However, at the soft tone her mother always used with her, she grudgingly abandoned her two dolls, both dressed properly for the scenario that had been unfolding when their owner's mother interrupted. The girl could not be bothered to place her beloved dolls back into their miniature house, knowing she'd get back to them as soon as her sister claimed she wanted to go home, which, as it usually happened with public celebrations, Lilith had learned would be very soon. So, with a light air about her, the 8 year old descended the stairs of her house as she imagined a princess would.

Waiting at the bottom of the staircase with a smile upon seeing her daughter's antics, stood Gabriela, quite tall and young-looking, her face and body bearing no sings of having nurtured two children. She held herself graciously, something Lilith would say was her representative trait, albeit, a decision encouraged by her love of all things that resembled the fantasy of the dreams she that came her mother's hair. Long, its tips brushing her elbows, soft and beautifully dark. The young girl had memories of trying to appoint a color to her mother's hair, but she found that brown just would not do. Even when she was introduced to shades, she had trouble deciding. Her choices were broader, and so was her inclination to perfectionism, a situation much similar to the one her sister found herself in when she was her , the trait Lilith loved most about her mother was the security she offered just by looking at her. She adored her mother's attention more than anything and she way always, in one way or another, trying to surprise her.

Gabriela loved both her daughters greatly and equally, and she always strove to show them that in her eyes, they were both of immeasurable value. She understood, however, that her children had different needs, not only due to age. Contrary to what she had knows for the greater part of her life, the needs of her younger child were easier to meet, fact which baffled her to the point where she told herself she needed to reassess her knowledge of was lovable in personality, enthusiastic about most things and brought into the family a feeling of overwhelming elder daughter, Caitlin, seemed to be faring differently. For one, Gabriela could make neither heads nor tails of her personality and her moods were often monotonous and didn't allow for introspection regarding her person. She was tempered in attitude, rarely displaying her emotions in a very open fashion, keeping to herself seemingly being one of her distinctive traits. She was, however, different while in the company of her sister. Gabriela had seem enough of their interactions to deem Caitlin a whole other person when it came to Lilith. She was more open, gentle, and, to some extent, she seemed happier. She was.. probably waiting for her mother and sister to arrive to her the thoughts that were ever-directed at her daughters, Gabriela took Lilith's hand as she held it up to her, staring curiously at her mother, who had suddenly became wrapped in her as best as she could to calm her nerves as she thought about the mode of transportation they would have to take, Gabriela swiftly locked the front door and turned to walk toward the driveway, little Lilith in tow.

Now, she only had to drive for roughly 20 minutes to get to Caitlin's high school.

'I'll be alright', she thought, though the words she spoke to herself in her own mind were so different from the language she used with her daughters, 'I've done it before'.

* * *

"I really can't believe it's over."

"Oh, God, really? I'm so glad it's gone. That 'best time of your life' thing is a load of bullshit."

"Cass, don't say that! It wasn't that bad. I'm sure you'll miss it in a few years."

"Ha, yeah. Tell me, what's there to miss?"

'Good question.'

Certainly not the people. If the dialogue she'd overheard was any indication, the teens that had been in attendance for the past 4 years of high school weren't very.. well, they weren't what you'd call bright. Most, she didn't know the names of, nor did she ever properly meet them, so Caitlin supposed she was being judgmental and assuming, although it wasn't her nature to be so. Then again, she'd unwillingly witnessed countless exchanges like the one that was currently unfolding in the left part of her field of vision. She had heard many people- back when they were still kids- talk about an array of subjects, amongst which love and reputation seemed popular, which constituted a solid reason for her to not go up to anyone and introduce herself. At least that's what she told herself.

Whenever she had the heart to be brutally honest with herself, she understood the basic reason she didn't make too many friends while in high school: she didn't really want to be associated with people who spent their busy time not doing what they were supposed to, and then used their free time complaining about being busy. She didn't want to linger around those who sought the superficial, nor did she take to being on the shallow side of things. It became easier that way. She slapped a label on those around her to conceal, while the effort had been meant to heal, what she knew to be true all along: it was her, not those surrounding her, that represented the problem.

To an objective spectator, it would seem sad, at best, that she had known the real reason behind her lack of companionship for a long time, or, at least, longer than anyone her age should be able to claim.

Looking at herself, there was no pity to be found. She would always prefer overpowering truth to drowning lie, since she could bear with it for of long time, she wondered how much longer she'd have to endure before her mother truly crossed into the 'astoundingly late' category. She knew of her fear of driving, but she reasoned it couldn't have taken her _that_ long to still her nerves and get into the soon as the thought registered, Caitlin's mind, as it usually did, started running through various scenarios, most of which were less than , before she dwelt and got too deeply inside the carefully crafted possibilities, she heard her name being called by a voice more familiar to her than her own.

"Cai, Cai, we're here! Hey, we made it!"

The corners of Caitlin's mouth twitched, but she was determined to play her part. She kept her back turned, paying attention to her sister's rapid footsteps on the pavement. Then, just when she was about to run into her, Caitlin turned around with the sternest face she could allow herself to display without seeming downright could not stop herself in time and ran straight into her elder sister's legs, much like she had planned. Looking up at her in confusion, she pouted.

"And why, if I may inquire, is my Lady so undoubtedly late? Who shall be held responsible for this late arrival, hm?" Caitlin asked, feeling her composure solidify when, as soon as the questions left her lips, Lilith's face turned to one of complete mischief.

"My Queen, it was not my fault! I was waiting for Mother to call while pla- practicing with my sword, but she did so late!"

To hear her speak with such clear pronunciation and using the vocabulary she did, not to mention easily understanding Caitlin's speech, still came as somewhat of a surprise to Lilith' she forgot her sister was very bright for her age.

"I did no such thing of which you speak, my child. I do believe I had been calling you from your quarters for nigh an hour before you graced me with your presence."

That line silenced them both. They had played the game before, where they pretended they were royalty in their own fictive world, but never had their mother joined. Truly, it stunned them. The quality of her voice, her pronunciation and tone sounded as though she had spoken that way her entire life. As though her tongue curled around the words like they were all she knew. Like she'd done it countless herself wasn't too certain as to how she had said that, but for a different reason. The occasions on which she witnessed the role playing game between her daughters were rare, since they always liked waiting until noon, when the sun was at a certain position in the sky, to begin their charade. At that time, she was at work; the one time she happened to take a leave from her job and get home when the two were so into their characters, she nearly dropped to her knees. She had heard words in a language so dear to her, yet sour to her current situation, and they came from one of her daughters.

"_Then I shall protect you, my Lady." _

Gabriela had barely registered Lilith looking at her sister, baffled, and Caitlin bursting into laughter at her expression, saying she simply made up the whole sentence.

The only thing that was left for Gabriela was shout her contradiction in her mind, wishing, more than anything, that she could voice it.

She had not simply made that up. Her heart had brought it forward when her mind was not watchful.

She knew every word she had spoken, like she knew air.

Like Gabriela knew pain.


End file.
